Page 75 of The Cult

Abel scooted forward and arched his back. I squatted next to him and dabbed his back with the washcloth, wiping my cum and flakes of dried wax off his skin. I ran my finger over the red marks, wanting to kiss them but the moment had passed. “Stand up,” I said.

Abel stood in silence. His eyes sparkled, as if he were asking silent questions.

I wiped the semen off his dick, lifting his balls, passing the cloth over them. Fuck if he didn’t react to my touch. Surprisingly, no sarcastic comment came out of Abel. That’s odd. He was a smart ass, and his quietness was uncharacteristic. I turned him around and cleaned his ass with the cloth, taking in the beautiful sight of his butt cheeks. Had I known ass-fucking would be that fun, I would’ve done it before. Was this only about fun with him? I cleaned his thighs and legs last before tossing the cloth in the corner of the room.

Abel’s skin was covered with goosebumps. He shivered slightly as I traced the globes of his ass with my fingers. He had to be cold again. I stood and marched to my dresser, grabbing a pair of pants and T-shirt from my drawer and handing them to him. “Wear this until you get back to your room.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Is he hurt? I shouldn’t care. He wanted the sex as much as I did, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about him. What if I was too much? I made sure I was gentle with him after finding out he was a virgin. Fuck! “Did …” I cleared my throat, forcing the question out of my mouth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t.” He returned to his position with his back against the wall. “That was amazing.”

I sat on the opposite side of him, our long legs nearly touching. “Then what is it?” I examined his expression. There was something off about him that I couldn’t put my finger on. Abel wasn’t happy or sad. He just seemed … different.

He dragged in a deep breath before speaking. “I dunno how else to explain it,” he began, stopping when the candlelight flickered out.

It was for the best; the darkness provided a shield from Abel’s stare. His scrutiny threatened to pierce through my well-guarded armor.

“I feel alive,” he continued. Silence hung between us, and I thought he was done talking. “Like this is how I’m supposed to feel,” he added. “Yeah, that’s it. It feels … right, you know?”

It feels right. He had pulled the words out of my mouth. I did know, because I felt the same. The difference between Abel and I was that I wasn’t brave enough to admit my feelings. Comical, considering what I did for a living. I’d faced terrifying horror for as long as I could remember, and here I was, afraid to tell Abel how I felt. I could add that to the short list of things that could bring me to my knees—confined spaces, the smell of bleach, and sharing my feelings. And if I wasn’t careful, Abel could be my ultimate pitfall for all of them.

“Have you done anything like that before?” he asked. I could feel his piercing eyes even in the dark. They were sharp darts aimed right at me.

“With a man? No.”

“How about with a woman?” Abel shifted, but I could still see his silhouette.

“No.” That truth came out of my lips surprisingly easier. What Aurora and I shared was nothing like what Abel and I did—not as primal, not as explosive, not as addictive.

“Good. It’ll be something only between you and me,” he said. His voice moved closer, along with his body.

You and me. I could learn a thing or two from Abel. Maybe I could be honest and courageous like he was. Maybe. For someone as young as he was, he seemed to have a grasp of what was important: integrity, loyalty, and responsibility. Character traits not even Orcus and his terrorizing guards could take away from him.

Abel moved to sit next to me and rested his head on my shoulder. The fresh scent of soap lingered between us. “Is this okay?” he asked wearily, his leg brushing against mine.

“Uh-huh,” I answered.

“How about this?” He traced my abs with his fingers, gliding through one ridge at a time.

My breath hitched, but I let him continue until his hand reached my chest. Sirens tolled in my head, but I was frozen. It was as if my brain and my heart were out of sync. This is fucked up, Tobias. Get rid of him while you can. Tell him to get the fuck out. “I’m sorry about what I said,” I admitted instead.

“Said about what?” Abel’s palm made its way to my sides before his hand journeyed to my arm.

“Your friends.”

He drew shapes on my forearm. It took a second before I realized that Abel was outlining my tattoos. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not all right. You were right. I’m not like you. I was a terrible friend to your dad,” I whispered.

“You’re not a terrible friend, Tobias.” His thumb sketched the length of the ink on my biceps. In the dark? Did he have the drawings memorized? “Dad would’ve understood your situation. You needed help yourself. He could’ve been there. We could’ve been there for you,” he insisted, followed by a yawn.

I’d been so lost in his presence that I’d forgotten the time. It had to be past two in the morning by now.

“You’re here now. That’s what matters.” He caressed my thigh, and I couldn’t breathe. Abel yawned again, louder this time.

“Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll wake you up before sunrise?” I offered.

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